


The Decimation of Stars

by ImmortalError



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, James T. Kirk Has Issues, M/M, Set during Into Darkness, Worried Leonard McCoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-07-01 03:00:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15765243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImmortalError/pseuds/ImmortalError
Summary: Bones isn't good at expressing his feelings. So, instead, he bottles them up. Until one day... he explodes.





	The Decimation of Stars

Leonard Horatio McCoy was stubborn. The ensigns knew it, his patients knew it, people of high authority knew it. The whole damn crew of the Enterprise knew it. But most importantly; _Kirk knew it._

He knew it and he smiled at it. It could be amusing at the worst of times; his grumpiness left a linger of amusement in the air in some situations. But McCoy's stubbornness could also be dark and concerning. McCoy was a doctor, as he so frequently liked to remind people that he was nothing more. He was a good doctor, the best in Starfleet, a true professional. But professional meant strict rules. Patient confidentiality and the hiding of all emotions directly related to said confidentiality left a lot to be assumed. Every time they lost someone, it was difficult yes, but it was also concerning. Chapel and M'Benga were frequently concerned for the CMO, his instant dismissal of questions or their voicing of concerns. He was a professional, he reminded himself, he refused to change that. But when they lost a young officer from radiation during a mishap with dilithium crystals, McCoy began acting off.

They'd been on their mission for two years so Chapel and M'Benga agreed that two years’ worth of deaths was the cause of McCoy's odd behaviour. At first it was just zoning out of conversations, but it began to take bigger tolls. McCoy was snapping at ensigns and getting prescriptions wrong, he was becoming unfocused and unsettled and his professionalism was suddenly at risk of being consumed by something no one could figure out. There was something dark in McCoy's heart and he was keeping it hidden. Chapel, knowing exactly how McCoy functioned, told Kirk about his change in character and on her request, Kirk went down to the med bay to ask him directly. When he did, McCoy began asking questions about Scotty's work with dilithium crystals and completely ignored Kirk's question. Scotty's work being a subject which McCoy had had no interest in prior. He was being evasive. His stubbornness was becoming his downfall.

Word got around to Kirk that McCoy hadn't been eating. His meals were accepted but found later in his quarters wasting away. Kirk had noticed it before M'Benga had come to him worried. His shoulders had begun to look sharper and his jaw began to cast a larger shadow. Kirk's heart ached slightly when he saw his friend restless, with bags under eyes that looked as if they sunk into his skull. He wasn't sleeping nor eating. The person across the room from McCoy, M'Benga, reported McCoy's lights on during hours he had described as _'stupid o'clock'_. But Kirk didn't have enough time to take his friend aside and speak to him about it, the incident with the crystals had taken absolute priority and everyone on the ship was working. It wasn't until McCoy showed up unable to focus and smelling like alcohol that he was made to create time to go talk to his friend. It was late; twelve began to turn to one by the time Kirk had got to McCoy's quarters.  

When McCoy finally entered, his hand was clasped firmly over his face, gripping the skin tightly. Kirk watched from the doorway, hesitant.  
"I swear to god." McCoy started, his voice gruff but Kirk could hear the pain in it. Anyone else would've needed a stethoscope to hear it but it was clear to Kirk. He took steps forward, the light from the hall growing a shadow over McCoy. The door behind hissed to a close.  
"I'll call security--" he looked up out of anger. His brow furrowed, his eyes were daggers. Kirk saw tears gleaming on McCoy's cheeks.  
"You can't call security on me, Bones." Kirk reminded him with a grin, taking a seat by his side. McCoy buried his hands in his face once more.  
"Leave." He stated angrily. "You've got responsibilities Jim."  
Kirk sat a mere few centimetres from McCoy, his hands clasped firmly together in his lap as he tried to figure out what to do.  
"I do have responsibilities Bones. One of them is to make sure that my CMO isn't yelling at Ensigns." Kirk commented. "The officer, Bones, the one who died... is he on your mind? He the reason you’re not eating or sleeping and showing up reeking of alcohol that I can only guess you stole from Chekov?"  
There was a silence after that question was posed. The words drifted in the air, unacknowledged. McCoy eventually sighed into his palms, muttering words muffled by skin.  
"He was young Jim.... _so young_. And he was just... _covered_ in wounds and scars. He should've been flawless, Jim. But he wasn't. He was burnt and dying. I knew he was going to die, he knew he was going to die. But..." McCoy's grief was joined by something Kirk could only identify as guilt. "At the end of this young man's life... all I could think about was _you_."  
Kirk's breath was caught in the back of his throat slightly.  
"W-what d’ya mean?" He was afraid to ask. Afraid because _nothing_ scared McCoy. _Nothing_ made McCoy cry. Kirk knew it, he took refuge in it. Only now, his refuge was being demolished.  
"I'm talking about lethal amounts of radiation, Jim." McCoy exclaimed, slamming his hands on the table and standing up suddenly. "I'm talking about an all-too familiar situation! You! Jim, you!"  
He refused to stop his pacing and as he did so, he began shaking slightly. All the emotion reaching its limits.  
" _You_ are flawless, Jim. You are. But you _weren't_. You were just like him; burning, bleeding, scarring, blistering. You died Jim." Kirk jumped up and took McCoy's trembling hands in his own, McCoy watched the rise and fall of Kirk's chest. He did that a lot, just to see that he was still breathing. "I was there for the death of someone I didn't know. But I wasn't there for the death of the only person I truly know…"  
"Bones--" Kirk's blood had been pumped with guilt.   
"Don't whimper to me, kid!" He snapped, his pacing began again as he ranted. "I had to hear it from Scotty!! And do you know what else; it was _five seconds_ before they delivered your body in a goddamn bag! You have no clue how angry it makes me that Spock was there! _Why in the hell was that pointy-eared bastard called instead of me?!"_ Tears were threatening to overflow McCoy's eyes, he shook where he paced, his fists tightened in anger. "Everyone else took a damn step back and they expected me to step forward?! They stood back with tears in their eyes, waiting for me to attend to the bag which was planted in front of me! I had a hypo ready, Jim! Overfilled! Because I'd rather be dead then out in the black alone!!"

"Bones---" Kirk stood from where he sat, taking a step towards him. He was guilt-stricken, unable to fully process what McCoy was saying.  
"I never had to think about losing you. Do you know what that's like? _To love someone and suddenly they're gone?!_ No explanation?! No goodbye!? Just sudden absence."  
Kirk's heart ached. As it did so, it began thudding quicker. _To love someone_ ; McCoy had spoken the words without thinking, it ran through Kirk's mind over and over.  
"It's nothing out here without you…" McCoy exclaimed suddenly, his tone of complete anger had ebbed slowly into pain. His sentences became statements overflowing with anguish. "you see, I hate space Jim! But all those beautiful stars and galaxies; they're all here!" McCoy slammed his pointer finger into Kirk's upper chest. "The second I saw your cold face _they all died with you_!" McCoy's throat stung from the harsh yells, his eyes puffy and red and his eyes running like waterfalls. Kirk's had begun to mirror McCoy's, growing red by the second. When McCoy spoke up again his voice was strained, his yelling died down and faded into sobs.  _"Every single fucking star went out, Jim…”_

With that McCoy turned to his bathroom, leaving the door open just a few centimetres. Kirk sat on the bed, his right foot rhythmically tapping at the ground over and over in nervousness. His thoughts were a torrential storm of confusion and guilt. He'd give McCoy a few minutes to calm down. Kirk had thought that McCoy was suffering from losing a patient, he always was dealing with that fact, but it was on such a larger scale. How long had McCoy been thinking about those things? Kirk begun to wonder. Why hadn't he said something? Had he been silent about it since it happened to years prior? Kirk thought and questioned to the point where he stood from where he sat and walked into the bathroom. 

McCoy stood over the bench, hunched over, resting all his weight on his hands and looking down. In front of him was the mirror. A mirror covered in patterned cracks, shattered and falling apart. The lines streamed from the right of the mirror, spreading and thinning to the left where only a small number of cracks reached the corner. Some shards were missing, lay scattered upon the bench. Kirk stood stunned for a second.  
"Bones..." he whispered, shell-shocked. Then he clicked into gear, taking slow steps forward towards his friend. As he did, McCoy's right hand became visible. His knuckles were lined with cuts caused by glass, bruising in shades of purple and green. "Bones when did y--"  
"Earlier. Before you came in. It's fine I fixed it..." that was a lie and Kirk knew it. The wounds that trailed their way across his skin were far from being treated.  
"That's a lie and I know it..." Kirk whispered but McCoy conveniently ignored it. They stood in silence, Kirk looking at the number of shards on the bench before his eyes fell upon the bloodstains on the bench. McCoy hadn't been lying about punching the glass earlier, the wounds on his hand were beginning to clot and the droplets on the bench were dried. 

"I should've done something." The crack in McCoy's voice when he eventually spoke up was enough to well a tear in Kirk's eye. "I should've been there to help you- to save you. I should've..."  
"Bones listen to me." Kirk grabbed his upper arm, turning him so they faced each other. "There wasn't a damn thing you would've been able to do. The decompression chamber wouldn't have let you in or me out. And I'm sorry- my god am I sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen. I just needed to save the ship because...."  
"Because you're a hero." McCoy finished his sentence.  
"Because I knew, somewhere, you were aboard." Kirk corrected him. "Bones you need to voice your feelings." Unlikely but Kirk told him anyway.

"Why did you come here Jim?" McCoy's eyes had eventually made their way to Kirk's.  
"You aren't eating Bones! I know you blame yourself for everyone you lose on that operating table, but you don't acknowledge it. I thought that's what was wrong... I didn't know..."  
"That I still live in fear? Yeah, I like to ignore it until it goes away. So, no, I won't answer honestly if anyone asks if I'm okay because those deaths are my fault and I know it."  
"Sometimes life throws us no-win scenarios, Bones." Kirk was quoting something he didn't accept.  
"I thought you didn't believe in those."  
"I didn't until I died. Even then you bought me back. _You_ , Bones. I spoke to Spock after, you know him as his whole 'Vulcans don't lie' thing. Well he specifically stated it was you that saved him. And without you, I would've still been dead."  
"But---" before he could say anything Kirk interrupted him. He took a few steps forward, wrapping his arms around McCoy who stood, almost limp.

 _"You. Need. To. Stop. Blaming. Yourself."_ Kirk stated, pressing his lips in front of McCoy's ear. Eventually McCoy weakly bought his arms up to Kirk's waist. Kirk felt McCoy shudder under him as he began to cry. And when he began to cry, his grip tightened, almost to the point where Kirk felt he was crushing him. McCoy buried his forehead into Kirk's shoulder. Kirk bought his hand up to the back of McCoy's neck, pushing his hand through his hair and pressing his forehead against McCoy's temple.  
"Did you mean what you said?" Kirk whispered, his lips against McCoy's ear. He didn't need to be specific, McCoy knew what he was referring to _. 'To love someone'._  
"Yes, of course I did." McCoy spoke, muffled against Kirk's collar. Kirk closed his eyes and smiled to himself.  
"I feel the same." He admitted, placing a kiss on McCoy's forehead before thinking to himself, "we'll get to that later." For the time being Kirk would just hold him close. And McCoy didn't move for he didn't want to. Where he pressed his head, through his tears, he could hear Kirk's heartbeat. Real and alive.

Kirk's heart was beating at a pace that told McCoy the stars were still out there, _shining away as they always had._

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this sooooo long ago with the help of the world's best homie. Honestly, shout out to my number 1 homie for always having faith in me, love you bro xx.


End file.
